


storm clouds that are brewing behind my eyes

by WhatsATerrarium



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Daniel Jacobi, Mentioned Isabel Lovelace, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Platonic Cuddling, Post Episode 57: The Devil's Plaything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21751888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatsATerrarium/pseuds/WhatsATerrarium
Summary: When she wakes up, everything hurts.
Relationships: Doug Eiffel & Renée Minkowski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	storm clouds that are brewing behind my eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Cleaning out my drive to avoid homework, yayyyy
> 
> This one's isn't one I'm too proud of, but post ep 57 Minkowski deserves cuddles like Trump deserves impeachment.
> 
> Title is from "Black Eyes" by Radical Face

When she wakes up, her nose is bleeding, her head is throbbing, and her joints are aching. Every inch of her body feels strained, every inch of her body feels worn, every inch of her body feels completely and utterly used. Every inch of her is tired.

When she wakes up, everything hurts.

Sitting up halfway, she’s hit by another jolt of pain, as though someone is splitting her head down the middle. A gasp escapes her mouth as she falls back into the air around her, apparently alerting the others to her consciousness.

“Commander?” She cracks her eyes open again to see Eiffel making his way towards her.

“Eiffel?”

“Oh…” he mutters, pushing through the Air and over to her. “Crap, you’re bleeding.” Eiffel grabs her arm lightly, taking the fabric pooling around her arm from the sleeve of the baggy sweatshirt she was wearing, holding the loose fabric up to her nose. She squeezes her eyes shut as the searing pain courses through her skull again.

When her eyes flutter open again, Lovelace is hovering over her next to Eiffel. As her eyelids flicker, she notices Jacobi a bit behind them, looking in.

“Minkowski, what’s wrong?”

She opens her mouth to answer, but all she makes out is a whimper before Lovelace interrupts her.

“Head still hurts?”

“Yeah,” she croaks. Her throat is dry, but it had taken speaking for her to realize it.

“They really did a number on you.”

“What ha-“

“Don’t worry about it right now, okay?”

With those words, the panic begins to seep into her brain. “Eiffel, what happened?”

“I promise, it’s-“

“I don’t remember anything.”

“And there’s a reason for that, I promise, Commander, it’ll… It’ll start to come back soon. The best thing you can do right now is…. Just take a breath, just relax. Please?”

Lovelace opens her mouth to say something, but Eiffel turns to her and mutters something that sounds like “I got this.”

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath and tries to relax herself, knowing it’d help the pounding in her head go away just a little. She watches as Lovelace turns away wearily, rejoining Jacobi in the corner.

Instead of quieting down, however, the tension in her head grows tighter, the pounding quickens, and the pain surges, causing her to let out a loud cry.

The second the sound erupts from her, though, she feels Eiffel’s hand clamp down on her mouth, muffling her scream as he looks down at her apologetically. And as the surge of pain hits its peak, it all comes rushing back.

She quiets herself, and as she does, Eiffel raises his hand away.

“Sorry,” he winces “we’re kind of hiding ou-“. His eyes meet hers as his expression quickly turns to one of worry upon noticing the look on her face. “Are you alright?”

Ignoring the redundancy of his question, she lets out a little gasp for breath as her brain struggles to catch up with the information it’s just absorbed. “I-“ she starts, swallowing as she searches for the words to describe the profound pain of what she’s reliving. “Pryce-“

“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Minkowski, that was-“

“It’s- I’m- Don’t apologize. I- I should be apologizing, Doug I- I tried to hurt you, I’m so -“

“Hey, shh, don’t worry, I’m fine.” He flashes her a fake grin. “I like to think I can hold my own.”

“You really can’t,” she breathes, attempting to smile back but instead only managing not to grimace as the throbbing in her head dies down.

“Yeah, but that’s what I’ve got you for, right? You’re my defender. You’ll go after all the bullies on the playground.”

“Guess I have to beat myself up sometime.” She removes the hand that had been pressing the hoodie sleeve to her nose from its position, making sure the blood had stopped. “And what am I wearing?”

“Well, A: let’s save the beating for the people who imperio-ed you. And, B: ...I wanted you to be cozy.”

He gestures down to the ratty, coffee-stained, ‘TEXAS’ hoodie she was bundled up in.

“It was all I had. And while I’m sure the action girl getup is comfortable, it’s not exactly a nice tropical climate in here.”

“Honestly,” she sighs, “...this is pretty cozy.”

“I know, right?” He smiles at her, big and toothy.

She watches his eyes glance down awkwardly, and follows his gaze to his hand, two inches from hers, which he appears to be at a crossroads over what to do with.

She almost rolls her eyes, but catches herself, realizing it wouldn’t be the best thing for her headache. So instead, she reaches for her friend’s hand.

“Thanks, by the way.”

He shrugs. “I still owe you… oh, about a dozen, maybe? Just tryin’ to even out the score.”

She snorts, allowing a small smile to spread across her face.

“Head still hurt?”

“A little, it’s dying down.”

“Wow, it… It wasn’t this bad for me, do you think it’s because of- ?”

“Pryce, yeah. It’s… not just my head though. I’m just… tired. Everything hurts.”

He squeezes her hand sympathetically. “They did have you pulling a lot of shifts. And I’m guessing for a long time, seeing as it’s been, what, weeks?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs softly. “Weeks.”

“Well, I think Lovelace, Jacobi, and Hera are over there working out a plan-“

“Shit,” she channels her strength into sitting up. “I should go over there and-“

Eiffel halts her by swiftly wrapping an arm around her waist.

“But-“

“Nope. You’re a leader, learn to delegate. Let them handle this one. You need some more sleep while there’s time to get it.”

She opens her mouth, searching for a valid argument to protest with before being cut off.

“Is there anything you need? I mean, anything that I can easily provide, that is. You definitely need some food, a doctor, and probably a therapist, but I don’t have access to any of those things. Actually, I think the only thing I can offer is emotional support. So if you need a hug...”

“I- Could you...” Nope. Nuh-uh. Don’t. “Can you… not move?”

“What do you-?”

“Well, maybe just, lean back a little bit?”

“Like.. this?” He asks, puzzled, as he leans back empty space around them.

“Yeah,” she responds hesitantly. She watches the gears in his head turn into place as she carefully lowers her head onto his chest. He wraps his arms around her securely as she curls up slightly, letting sleep wash over her like a wave.

They’ll have to be ready to fight soon, but for now, at least the two of them are at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> So a big reason why I don't usually leave comments is that it doesn’t feel like a conversation, it feels too definite. So, as opposed to asking you to leave comments (which I do still very much appreciate and will respond to if that’s your thing), I’m going to let you know how to contact me!
> 
> Instagram: whats_a_terrarium  
> Discord: whats_a_terrarium#0251  
> Tumblr: whats-a-terrarium  
> Twitter: whatsaterrarium
> 
> If you have any thoughts, ideas, constructive criticism, or just want to ramble, never hesitate! :)


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